


Probably Not Mermaids

by reena_jenkins



Category: Bandom, Disney RPF, Jonas Brothers, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkwardness, Communication Failure, Community College, M/M, Not!Fic, Paparazzi, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A not!fic of swimming and community college, growing up and failing to communicate, paparazzi and Awards Ceremony Dinners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Probably Not Mermaids

If Kevin really wanted to, if he followed the chain of events all the way back to their very beginning, he'd probably pin the whole thing as being his mother's fault. No, really - if she hadn't wanted what essentially boiled down to hours of summer babysitting for him and Joe while Nick had rehearsals in the City, she never would have signed them up for the swim team at the community swimming pool. 

"It'll be good for you," Mom said over dinner one night in March, "You'll get to meet new people, and get a tan, and get some exercise while you're at it. It'll be good to get you out of the house this summer. No, Frankie." And then she'd had to focus her attention back on the baby, who was trying to climb his way out of the high chair again, and the subject was dropped. 

And, alright, it could have been a whole lot worse. Kevin could've been on the swim team and not known how to swim. He could've had hideous man-eating shark monsters as teammates. The pool could've been filled with hydrochloric acid, instead of chlorine. So yeah, it wasn't that bad, but the first day of summer practice wasn't all that great, either. 

And yet, despite the early morning meets and hours-long practices and late-night fundraisers (Kevin had never shilled raffle tickets so hard in his LIFE, as he did that summer to raise money for the swim team); despite not knowing anyone but his brother at first, and having to wear what felt like a perpetual wedgie every time he got out of the pool; despite sunburned shoulders and chlorine cough and scraped toes on the pool floor; that summer on the swim team was not half bad, after all. And if Kevin developed a passion for swimming that had to sit backseat to his love of guitar, well, that was pretty much his Mom's fault, too.

*** 

Alright, so the Jonas kids are growing up in Jersey pre-band, and Mom's got lots to do during the summer, so she signs Kevin and Joe up for the local swim team, as free babysitting. And there are hijinks (and possibly some hiding in the bathroom, so as to avoid having to actually swim, the first few days…) but Kevin actually grows to love competitive swimming - it's a team sport that you do by yourself! Plus, his Mom doesn't believe in air conditioning (it makes her sinuses hurt), so spending time in the pool is pretty refreshing. And he keeps doing swim team every summer for years, until the JoBros start touring as a family in their little van, when summers are spent driving across America instead of driving across Jersey, and playing guitar at tiny venues replaces swimming backstroke for screaming teammates. 

And then canon happens. *magic jazz hands* Canonically, the Jonases move from Jersey to Los Angeles, right? At least for a while, to film their Disney show.  

So while they're in LA, Kevin starts thinking about college - he is, after all, Reaching That Age - and then stuff happens that distracts him from seriously pursuing further education. Kevin meets Danielle, and they try the long-distance romance thing. He loves her, and they talk and they text and they email each other pictures of cute baby animals, but it doesn't work out. Long-distance relationships hardly ever last for people who are just going away to school from one another, let alone when one person is going off to college and the other is living out of a suitcase on a tour bus that could be in any one of fifteen different states at a given moment (Kevin knows this to be true - just look at Joe and Demi's storyline in Camp Rock 2). Cue heartbreak, reconsidering his life's choices, and a strategically placed college brochure falling out of his bunk to land at his feet.  

In lieu of escaping his broken heart by running away to join a band (that would  be…..counterproductive), Kevin begins to seriously contemplate going to college. He talks to Joe and Nick about it first, because he ALWAYS talks to Joe and Nick about things first. Kevin talked to Joe and Nick first when he was thinking about leaving the band to become a professional zoologist, that time after they'd been to the San Diego Zoo - they talked him out of it. Kevin talked to them first before he told Danielle that he wanted to take his Purity Ring off for good - Joe leered, but Nick gave him the kind of advice that settled in his heart, about loving Danielle and making choices he could live with. Kevin talked to Nick and Joe in the vaguest of terms, and then more concretely, before he ever told his parents he was bi - Joe was the one who helped Kevin realize he COULD be bisexual, after all, and once he got past the knee-jerk refuting that Church had instilled in them all, Nick was the most supportive brother a "theoretically bi. I haven't even kissed a guy yet" boy could ask for. And when his parents had no idea had no idea how to react to their oldest son, when he showed them that he wasn't the ideal specimen their Church strived for, Nick and Joe helped Kevin mend fences. They've always been his sounding board for major life decisions, after all.  

So then Kevin tells his parents that he wants to go to college. 

And then there are Family Meetings, and Meetings With Management, and Family Meetings that actually ARE Meetings With Management (the JoBros keep it in the family). At first, Disney's official stance on Kevin's proposition sounds something like this: "We appreciate your gumption. We think Higher Education is fantastic. We're proud of you, Kevin My Boy, for thinking outside the box. It's good that you want to have a back-up plan. But…. your contract isn't fulfilled yet, and YOU CAN'T LEAVE. Mwahahahahahahah……" (Alright, so the genial-yet-creepy uncle thing was spot-on - Disney's lawyers are, unsurprisingly, a stereotype in and of themselves - but the evil cackling at the end was probably just in Kevin's head. Mostly.)  

But then Kevin brings up the possibility of attending a community college, instead.  

"What about Santa Monica College? It's perfect for our situation," he tells the Disney lawyers and his parents across the conference table, "It's just two years instead of four, it'll give me a chance to figure out if this is something I really want to do with my life instead of committing to four years upfront. I wouldn't be living on-campus, since it's not that far away, so you could still have me at home where you can keep an eye on me, Mom. I wouldn't need any extra security - Big Rob could take me to class! I could schedule my classes around shooting, so that it wouldn't interrupt JONAS. And we're not going on tour for at least another six or seven months, right? That's longer than a semester, so classes wouldn't get in the way of anything. I can keep my head down, I promise. I just….. I need a change, to keep my mind off things with Danni. Please, I promise this will be good for everyone." 

And then Kevin breaks out the Puppy Dog Eyes (he's not as effective as Frankie with them, but he can get the job done), and there is More Discussion, and there are a few more Meetings With Important People, but eventually it's decided to give Kevin's character a storyline that he's Going Off To College. It will keep Kevin on the show, but allow him more time off for classes. Disney Approves Of Higher Education, after all (and the show's producers approve even harder of the marketing/advertising opportunity for Special Episodes where Kevin makes cameos). 

So Nick and Joe are still doing the show, and then they all go off on the accompanying JONAS/Camp Rock tour, and Nick and Joe have their faces on blankets at Walmart. At the same time, Kevin is breaking out his Home School Diploma, and brushing up on his SAT vocabulary by having all the tour techs quiz him on the bus between venues, and getting ready to fill out the Common Application. (Kevin's face is ALSO on blankets at Walmart, but he tries not to think too much about strangers sleeping on his face.)  

MEANWHILE.... Mike's life goes exactly according to canon (sorry, Mike, I'm not feeling the urge to rewrite your reality). 

But back to the JoBro bus! When Kevin's writing his essay for the Common App, he needs to write about a "significant life experience that would bring diversity to the college community" - he doesn't want to come across as an entitled rock star, all YOU SHOULD ENROLL ME BECAUSE MICKEY MOUSE SAYS SO, so he writes about swimming instead. He talks about meeting new people and making friends outside his Home School Group, and how by the end of every summer he'd have amazing memories of his teammates, and how there would be an OHANA MEANS FAMILY moment at the podium at the final meet of the season (even if they didn't win anything at all that year) and how the dedication and drive he learned as a child on the local swim team has carried him through challenges all his life.  

AND THEN KEVIN GETS INTO COLLEGE \O/ \O/ \O/ 

It's a weird time, the few months between getting his acceptance letter to Santa Monica and when he begins classes in September. If he'd been planning to go someplace full-time, living in a dorm like he would've at NYU or Rutgers (and thinking about those schools bring back flashes of homesickness, because even though they've lived in LA for a couple years now, and have spent even longer than that on the road with no distinct address, Jersey will always be HOME in his heart. If the band hadn't taken off the way it had, if they'd never signed with Disney, Kevin probably would've started college two years ago, and be nearly graduated from Rutgers already), Nick and Joe would have been helping him ransack the Dorm Supplies aisle at Target RIGHT NOW. They probably would have had shopping cart races up and down the aisles, and bought some superhero plates for Kevin to keep under his bed for when he brings food back to his dorm from the dining hall, and his parents probably would have asked Big Rob to help carry everything in on Move-In Day. (Well, if they knew Big Rob in that alternate timeline. They might not! They might have had to ask Kevin's cousins on his Mom's side to help move him in, and wouldn't THAT have been a spectacle. Kevin shudders at the thought.)  

But instead, since Kevin's not actually moving anywhere, there's a strange and half-fulfilled feeling of anticlimactic anticipation fizzing through his nerves. It's not as though there will be a Grand Gesture or Significant Change In Circumstance to signify his….well, change in circumstances, after all. Kevin's not actually going anywhere. (Though, his family does take him out to a fancy dinner the night before classes begin, and there are all sorts of hugs and tears at breakfast the next morning, even though it's not like they'll never see him again - he'll coming home in the evening, after all.) 

Instead, in the months leading up to his First Day As A College Student, Kevin spends his time pacing the hallways of his parents' house, worrying that he's bought the wrong kind of notebooks. He wonders if he'll be able to find his way to campus on the highway, or if he'll have to rely on the GPS in the car for directions. He's hoping to stay under the radar for as long as possible, and the point of all this is to have a back-up plan outside the band, so Kevin didn't sign up for any classes in the music department. What does he know about Accounting or Biology? All kinds of worries are rattling around inside Kevin's skull like one of those rotating bingo-caller basket…number…things…. what're those even called, anyway? They look kind of like a salad-spinner full of ping pong balls. People invent the weirdest things…. He shakes his head, refocussing. 

And it's not like Kevin's going to completely blend in with his future classmates, even if they don't gawk at him for being one-third of a Disney Boy Band (hey, he loves his brothers and their band, but Kevin's not unaware that some people consider them to be a bit of a joke. It hurts a bit, but you can't please everyone, right?). After all, he's 22 years old, and the average incoming Freshman is 18. If nothing else, he's going to be older than the majority of his incoming class, which is enough to make him stick out some - combine that with the ARE YOU SURE THAT GUY ISN'T A JONAS BROTHER and the occasional double-take when Kevin goes to the Starbucks down the block by his parents' house (and then multiply it by seven for being in a closed classroom with nothing else interesting to look at), and now Kevin's got performance anxiety to boot, on top of worrying about making new friends. Meeting some people while he waits for the next empty urinal is just not the same as Making New Friends in class or at a party.  

So what does Kevin do? He checks his email, realizes that Santa Monica is having a week of Freshman Orientation activities before classes begin - there's a barbecue scheduled on a lawn somewhere, and a movie screening in one of the conference rooms in the campus library, and an activities fair - and makes time in his schedule to spend a few extra hours on campus. It's the activities fair that really gets things going, though, because nestled in between a table for co-ed cheerleading (hmmm...he DID take gymnastics lessons as a kid.....but, no. Nick would make Constipated Face #7 at him if he actually became a cheerleader, and Joe would try to get himself set up with all of Kevin's teammates) and a table for one of the campus a capella groups (another no - staying under the radar means steering clear of the music department for a while, even if singing isn't quite as much His Thing as playing the guitar is. Kev's content to be a backup vocalist) is the table for the school's swim team.  

It seems almost fateful, coming across the swim team table like this. After all, writing about swim team back home (because no matter how long they live in California, New Jersey will ALWAYS be home) was what got him into college in the first place. 

So Kevin signs up for tryouts - coincidentally, Freshman Orientation Week falls during the same week that teams with a Fall Season have tryouts. Funny, that.... you'd think the athletic department had something to do with it. And obviously Kevin has swim trunks - he lives in CALIFORNIA now, HE OWNS ALL THE SWIM TRUNKS - but he hasn't owned a pair of jammers (the waist-to-knee length boys' swimsuits, more demure than speedos) since he was 13. And yeah, they're supposed to be skintight, but the ones he had at 13 would probably make his mother weep over lost grandbaby opportunities (not that he's going to mention ANYTHING about grandbabies and the relative potential thereof, especially since his mother took the breakup with Danni nearly as hard as he did, and even if she's come to terms with his bisexuality, it's never been more than theoretical up to now anyway).  

SO THEN THERE IS A SHOPPING MONTAGE. 

Kevin just wants to go buy a set of jammers and a half-dozen swim caps (those things ALWAYS rip when you least want them to) from the school store - it'll be simple and fast and he'll get a pair with the school logo on the side, and that'll be that. However, he makes the mistake of mentioning, "Tryouts for the school swim team are tomorrow. I think I'm going to go. I haven't been on a swim team in ages, y'know?" over dinner…and then Joe demands that they go from generic shop to specialty shop to surf shop to cheesy tourist shop for The Perfect Pair. Eventually Kevin gets kind of sneaky about the whole thing, and leaves Joe behind in a dressing room (he's working his way through a variety of Hollywood Boulevard novelty shirts), and just buys a pair of jammers in black.  

END SHOPPING MONTAGE. 

Right, so Kevin's a little bit nervous the next morning. Less nervous that he thinks he'd be for the first day of classes, but probably more nervous than he should be - after all, it's not like he doesn't know how to swim. So what if he hasn't been swimming competitively in years? He still knows the difference between a two-hand touch and a flip turn, after all. He eats one of those single-serving size boxes of Mini Wheats in the car (one of the benefits of Big Rob coming with him to school is that he can eat in the car and not get distracted from the GPS directions), and puts his (brand new) jammers on under a pair of School Logo sweatpants, and stumbles his way across campus to the natatorium. Then he wonders why the sign still says 'natatorium', and not something like 'pool'. He follows the taped-up paper signs to the men's locker room, skims out of his street clothes, wishes he'd remembered to bring a lock with him, and grabs a locker all the way in the corner of the room farthest from the door (hopefully, potential locker thieves will go for the easier targets, instead of his). Then it's off to the pool deck, feeling more nervous than this morning, and more than a little awkward - there's an art to walking in jammers and speedos, where you pretend that you DON'T feel incredibly naked for everyone to see, and eventually you stop hunching over your crotch and drawing more attention to yourself in the process. It seems, however, that this particular skill set is NOT like riding a bicycle, because Kevin can already feel the self-consciousness setting in. You'd think, after being Slimed on national television, walking around in what's essentially a really clingy pair of underwear in front of maaaaaybe 20 people wouldn't be a big deal.  

But, no.  

It totally is. 

The coach is a young-ish looking guy, who introduces himself as "Just Coach". He mentions the roster (about two-thirds full of last year's swimmers, but they're always looking for new talent. After all, it's a two-year school: their team has a pretty high turnover rate), some of last season's achievements, and the number of hours they'll need to put in for practice (both at officially scheduled practices, and on their own time). He says, "If you can't commit, if you're not sure this is for you, that's fine. The door's right there. The rest of you, follow Mike through some warmups, and then I want you in the water for a five hundred IM, followed by five hundred of your best stroke. We'll take it from there." 

Kevin looks from Coach to the guy he pointed out, Mike. Mike's wearing his jammers like he doesn't even remember what naked IS, much less naked and with a perpetual wedgie the way Kevin's feeling right now. He's got short hair (obviously, Kevin thinks, or else it wouldn't fit streamlined under his cap), a pair of those really fierce-looking mirrored Speedo goggles wrapped a few times around his wrist. The expression on his face looks like he can't decide whether to lead the dryland exercises or clobber someone with a kickboard. 

Tryouts are something of a blur, when dinnertime rolls around and Dad asks how everyone's day went. Kevin knows they ran snakes, which are a torture he thought had been left behind in Jersey - sprint a lap of freestyle, get out and do jumping jacks, sprint a lap of breaststroke, get out and do pushups, sprint a lap of butterfly, do some crunches, sprint a lap of backstroke, more pushups, repeat until you run out of lap lanes or Coach takes pity on you - and there might have also been something about shaving a minimum of three seconds off everyone's best times by the end of the season? But Kevin might have been hallucinating that part. He hopes so… Sure, Kevin's muscles are screaming at him (he hasn't worked that hard or swam that fast in AGES - on their rare hotel night on tour, the places they stay don't tend to have lap lanes so much as a communal space for splashing and playing Chicken. It's not as though Kevin has joined a gym or anything since they settled down in LA, either, and his muscles are letting him know that they're disappointed in him), and he definitely hasn't missed the scrapped-rough feeling of uncalloused  feet on concrete, but….he thinks he probably made the team. Not to sound petty, but there were DEFINITELY worse swimmers than him at tryouts. And Mike, who turns out to be the Team Captain, gave him a nod when Kevin was leaving the locker room! It might just have been because Kevin managed to keep up with his workout (for the most part…. the individual medley was a beast to complete), but Kevin's going to believe it's because he's making new friends on the team. 

AND THEN KEVIN GETS AN EMAIL THAT NIGHT FROM TEAM CAPTAIN MIKE - HE'S ON THE TEAM *\o/* *\o/* 

The first few weeks are pretty rough, to be honest. Kevin's juggling two or three hours a day at the pool with 13 credit-hours of classes (an English class that meets one of his Gen Ed requirements, an Accounting class because he figures that's something he'll need to know in the future, and Bio 101 with an accompanying lab - what the heck was he THINKING when he registered for these classes?) AND eight to ten hours each weekend to shoot JONAS. On top of that, Nick's had a Revelation (Joe's pretty sure he's fallen in love with the coffee girl from crafts services this time, but it still means a few more hours a week in the practice space while Nick pens an ode in her honor), and Frankie got a month's worth of detention at school for a prank Kevin's pretty sure he doesn't want to know anything about, so life at home is pretty tense, too.  

Which pretty much means that SOMETHING's gotta give, and one day Kevin just breaks down in the locker room after an hour of self-assigned practice. He just….. sits there on a bench, staring at his hands and hyperventilating, as all the CRAZY that is his life right now runs around and around in his head. Why did he ever think he could DO this? Why bother with all this college stuff? He's already GOT a career that people would kill for, why is it not enough? The last time he had a crisis of confidence like this, Kevin had called Danni, and she'd talked him down for two hours until the world made sense again. But Danni's not an option anymore, is she. If anything, he's been pushing himself so hard as a way to ignore the hole their breakup had left behind in his life. Clearly, it isn't working as well as he'd hoped it would. 

That's when Mike walks into the locker room, in his sweats and a towel over his shoulder, looking like he's ready for some personal practice time in the pool himself. He sees Kevin sitting on the bench, tense beyond reason in his jammers and dripping on the tile floor, and all of Mike's Team Captaining Instincts come rushing to the fore. 

Of course, he's still Mike Carden, so it's not as though Kevin gets the cuddliest of Team Captain Reassurances. 

"Uh… you okay?" 

"Huh? Oh! Um, yeah, sure." 

"Only, you look like you're gonna puke or something." 

"Wha.… No, I'm not sick or anything. Just stressed, you know?" 

There's a long pause in the locker room, full of tight awkwardness - even though Mike had nodded to Kevin after tryouts, they haven't exactly spent any one-on-one time together. 

"I mean, I didn't think it would be this hard, y'know? I know swimming, it's something I'm good at! And my classes aren't too bad, although when I'm going to find the time to finish this week's lab for Bio I have no idea, and I'm going to be film- WORKING for like ten hours straight this weekend, and on top of that I still live with my parents so everything I do is under a microscope, and I just… I thought I could handle this. I've done high-pressure before, it's not like I'm some wilting flower that can't handle his own schedule, I just… It's nothing at all like I thought this would be. What am I even doing here?" 

And Mike looks at Kevin for a moment, waits to see if his rant is over, then nods. "C'mon, get your clothes on. We'll go get a coffee." 

Kevin's in a place right now where a venti mocha-caramel frappucchino with extra whipped cream and those little chocolate shavings on top sounds like an EXCELLENT idea, so he sends Big Rob a text that he's going for coffee with a teammate and might be late for pick-up, and then the two of them are walking out of the natatorium (Kevin still can't get over that - it's such a weird word. Plus, for some reason it reminds him of the lyrics to 'Year 3000'). The nearest Starbucks is across campus, so they walk in semi-comfortable silence until the sweet, sweet smell of caffeinated beverages filters into the air. 

Mike doesn't talk much once they've ordered their drinks and sat down at the cutest-yet-most-awkward-for-actually-sitting spindly-legged table (he got a grande latte, no flavors or whipped cream. Kevin is unsurprised), but he nods along as Kevin rambles a bit about his brothers and his classes and Frankie's latest attempt at world-conquering chaos. Kevin doesn't mention the Jonas Brothers thing, since if Mike hasn't brought it up first it must mean that he doesn't recognize him, and then Kevin would come off like he's bragging and it would be all kinds of awkward, but somehow the conversation comes around to the fact that Mike used to play guitar. He doesn't anymore, apparently, and the look on Mike's face as he says it (tight, pinched, like the loss of a pet or the death of a family member) keeps Kevin from prying further. 

Somehow, the thirty minutes of calm that Mike miraculously produced to defuse Kevin's stress that day, via specialty coffee drinks and companionship, becomes something of a routine. Every Thursday, actually - Mike bumps his personal practice time up an hour, and they swim laps together, pacing each other and then setting silly challenges like who can do the most flip-turns in five minutes without puking. Then they dry off, slip into whatever warm-up outfits they'd worn that day (Kevin's found that he's lost his fondness for skinny jeans - they're impossible to get into or out of, if your legs are even the slightest bit damp - and Mike has a tendency to wear the most…..distinct…tee-shirts known to mankind.They make an odd couple from the outside, for sure), and make the trek across campus to coffee nirvana. It's…nice, to have this routine. Really, really nice.  

Eventually, Kevin gets himself settled. His schedule is still on the hectic side, between classes and filming and trying to develop a social life through the swim team, but by mid-October Kevin finds himself (pardon the pun) getting along swimmingly. He's learned the route from home to campus by heart, attending classes and practices on his own time, and he falls into a rhythm. He gets settled. He gets complacent. 

He stops taking Big Rob everywhere (and after that happens, some of his teachers look Very Relieved - apparently, men of Big Rob's stature "auditing" their classes is an uncomfortable proposition. Kevin thinks it's the secret agent style ear-mic that Big Rob's got….it makes him look like a Capital-S Spy, James Bond gadgets and all) and forgets to look out for the paparazzi. Which, of course, is exactly when they strike. 

Kevin's teammates haven't made a big deal about him, so he figures it's because they don't recognize him - after all, Mike hasn't ever said anything at any of their coffee not!dates ("Really, Joe," Kevin protests, "He's just doing his Team Captain-y duty. We're FRIENDS."), and they're all probably too old to watch JONAS anyway, and if Mike's drylands playlist is anything to go by (it's basically the entire Fueled By Ramen lineup, because he is a masochist that way and tries to punish himself while stretching), the Jonas Brothers aren't exactly the same genre of music as his teammates' tastes, either.  

But actually, it went down like this: 

Mike takes his duties as Team Captain seriously, so before the first scheduled practice with Coach was underway, he Googled all his new swimmers. Just to see about their high school teams, if they'd swam in any noteworthy meets, to learn what their preferred strokes were…….and also, as Bill said once after he and Mike had taken few too many hits, because he's "a paranoid bastard with a God complex. You're always going to know everything about everyone, and assume they did something even worse." That was right around the time Tom left…and Mike's been trying really hard to move on with his life altogether, thoughts of Bill or Tom or Sisky or ANYONE getting shoved aside and ignored. It's strange and uncomfortable that this particular Bill-ism should float to the top of Mike's mind while he's doing a standard, ROUTINE, Google of his teammates, and it leaves him in a sour mood as he goes through the rest of the list.  

The point is, Mike comes across Kevin's little "celebrity problem" right away (Google isn't sparing when it comes to photographs and 18-point font fan sites), and because Bill's already on his mind, Mike remembers the kinds of things you need to do to manage a semi-famous someone who doesn't realize the kinds of crazy their fans can come up with. Yet another thought of Bill. Dammit, and Mike had been doing so WELL at keeping any of them out of his brain, lately. 

Mike sends out an email to Coach, cc's the rest of the team sans Kevin, and essentially tells everyone to lay off Kevin; to act like they don't know who he is if they do and to nevermind if they don't, because he doesn't want any fanboy-ing to disrupt his practices. Mike's reputation as the kind of guy who eats babies - and the threat of additional 5000 IMs to their workout - keeps his team calm in the face of JoBro mania. And since Kevin didn't get that particular email, he never even knows the difference. 

Mike's edict doesn't reach beyond their team, though. Someone on the team of a rival school recognizes Kevin at a meet (even in his cap and goggles! Impressive fannishness, or stalker extraordinaire? The world may never know…), and tips off the paparazzi in time for Championships. 

Kevin's on deck celebrating his personal best time for the 400-meter breaststroke, and he's giving all his teammates hugs because that's what he does. But thanks to the magic of telephoto lenses and competitors without scruples, the paps get a picture of Kevin in his jammers. That alone would be embarrassing enough - talk about skintight spandex and leaving little to the imagination - but Mike's also in the shot. Mike's the guy Kevin is hugging, and they're BOTH in a less-than-clothed state, plus (even though it's mostly just for PR purposes by now) Kevin's not wearing his Purity Ring. It becomes this whole big deal, and SCANTILY-CLAD DISNEY STAR IN CLANDESTINE RELATIONSHIP becomes the headline blazing across Perez Hilton's blog. Obviously, once the editors at TMZ dug up Mike's name, they couldn't pass up the opportunity to bring in Pete Wentz; it's not exactly a secret that the folks on Pete's label are fans of boys kissing boys, and contrast that sort of behavior with Disney Corporation's stance on all things Family Friendly? Well, you've got yourself an explosive combination fit to boost site traffic five hundred percent. 

It's a train wreck of utter proportions on both ends, really. Kevin's family knows that he thinks guys are just as attractive as girls, and as a family they've made their peace (Kevin knows his parents love HIM more than they love the Church, but it took some time before things became easy between them after he first made his I Have A Sexuality, Hear Me Roar announcement); however, it's never been an issue that needed to be brought up with Management before. And then there's the whole Mike-used-to-be-in-a-band-that-groped-people-in-public bombshell, which shakes things up (though, when Kevin learns about TAI…'s break-up, it gives context to that anguished expression on Mike's face every time someone mentioned playing the guitar). Kevin's in PR meeting after PR meeting as the JONAS producers decided how to spin things. It's not like he and Mike are ACTUALLY DATING, they are JUST FRIENDS, SERIOUSLY, so eventually the best course of action seems to be to just lay low. Hope fully, Perez will get distracted by something Lindsey Lohan or Miley Cyrus does in the near future (and honestly, Kevin knows it's a little petty, but he has NO IDEA how either of those girls has managed to stay on the Disney label for so long, with all their antics). 

On the other hand, Mike's been laying low from the entire music scene for the last year and a half - he hasn't been talking to anyone within ten degrees of Pete Wentz, much less the standard six, and he never really was all that famous to begin with. He told Bill he wasn't ready to talk more than a dozen months ago, and he hasn't answered any of Pete's calls in a while, so he doesn't have the kind of PR strategy ready that would keep him sane during this media shitstorm. He spends a few days moping in his apartment after the picture first breaks, and then all of a sudden his funk is broken by Brendon Urie, banging on the door. 

See, Mike is in a place where he really can't stand to be around his ex-bandmates right now, and it was even worse eighteen months ago. Imagine the worst breakup you've ever had, then imagine that you were ready to propose right before the breakup happened, and then imagine that your ex got to keep the dog AND all your friends in the bargain, and you'd be about where Mike was, that first year. But somehow (possibly through Pete, possibly through Bill, possibly through The Magic Of Google), Brendon found out that they were in the same state again, and proceeded to drag Mike (kicking and screaming, and not entirely metaphorically) into the land of the social and excitable. It was the weirdest thing, really, because even though they had toured together for a few months, and Mike had been there for Brendon's first alcoholic beverage (and his second, third, fourth, tenth….), their main connection had always been through Jon Walker. Who wasn't in Brendon's band anymore. 

It should have been a friendship that didn't happen, and yet….well, here they are, a year and a half later, with Brendon Urie knocking enthusiastically on Mike's apartment door. 

Brendon proceeds to drag Mike out of his comfortable hermitage that night, off to be social with him and Spencer. "We toured together, Mike. You knew me as a babe in arms! It's my sworn duty to get you drunk in company tonight." And then Brendon bounces them off to Spencer's for some Call of Duty on the big screen, and no-one mentions anything else in connection to TAI… or Disney or JONAS all night. Spencer lights a bong, and Mike thinks he'll have to pass on it, swim season and all, when he remembers that swim season is over. After all, wasn't Champs the reason he's hiding from the world, anyway? So Mike figures, the hell with it, and bogarts more than his fair share. Whatever, Spencer offered, and Mike's in no mood to be accommodating despite Brendon's cheering influence. 

The next morning, Mike wakes up on the living room floor, one arm under the couch - either he never made it to comfortable cushions in the first place, or he rolled onto the floor in his sleep (though the lack of bruising suggests laziness rather than clumsiness). He has a hangover, and the inside of his mouth tastes a little like the time he licked his gym socks in eighth grade (it was a dare. Really). He's probably going to have to swim a few extra 500 flys to make up for the seventeen cupcake wrappers that are scattered on the floor around him - fearless soldiers, dying nobly for the cause of Mike's munchies - but even on top of all that, Mike's glad Brendon dragged him off. 

Back at school, there is TENSION and DRAMA (and OF COURSE the school paper picked up the story, so there is an awful lot of gawking going on in Kevin's classes as well. His lab partner in Bio has taken to giving him simpering looks, like if she gives him the biggest goo-goo eyes possible, he'll introduce her to Zac Effron or something. It's kind of creepy) and the thing is, Mike and Kevin really weren't dating! They were friends! Good friends, Kevin thought, even if he never actually brought up the "I'm secretly a pop star with my two brothers, and I have a TV show, and there are thousands of pre-teen girls across America who are sleeping on my face right now" issue. But maybe they weren't friends after all, because Mike's avoiding him like WHOA, and since Champs is the end of the season there aren't even any practices to force Mike into Kevin's company (though Kevin HAS been lurking around the pool on the off-chance that he could catch Mike in the locker room and pin him down. "To TALK, Joe. Not….not for THAT. He's not even looking at me right now, I really don't think kissing him is going to make this any better," Kevin says after dinner one night. It's awkwardly quiet around the table, then, until Frankie pipes up, "So you DO want to kiss him," and Kevin's head thunks onto the tabletop in dismay. His family is exasperating). 

Kevin's last chance to fix things, his very last chance to make things right with Mike and apologize for lying to him and try to regain their friendship, is the Awards Dinner next week. Mike HAS to attend - he's their Captain, and he's handing out the Spirit Awards alongside Coach - so Kevin's pretty much planning to jump him on line for the buffet, in public where he can't escape ("Not like THAT, Joe. Seriously, you are no help at ALL.") 

Meanwhile, Mike's been hiding from Kevin not because of the whole You Lied To Me awkward drama that's playing out in Kevin's imagination, but because….well, it's all twisted up in his head right now, but suffice it to say that The Photograph didn't just bring with it media attention, but also all the emotions Mike's been trying to suppress (somewhat successfully, if you ask him) about his band and his label and his guitar that's lain untouched for months. 

It all seethes and simmers in Mike's mind, making Kevin more agitated and anxious, until the whole situation comes to a boil at the Swim Team Awards Dinner. 

Mike's on line for the buffet (a set of folding tables lined up against the back wall of one of the multi-purpose conference rooms in the student union, covered in paper tablecloths and filled with an assortment of foodstuffs provided by their teammates. There's four different versions of baked ziti, a half-dozen pizzas, and a lone sushi platter set out so far), and Kevin's having Confidence Issues. When they walked in - his whole family and Big Rob had come, since the Jonas Brothers cat was definitely out of the bag by this point, Frankie had said, "If you won't do anything, I will, because your moping is dragging the whole house down." Kevin had shuddered, and walked off to find Mike instead. 

Kevin musters his courage, walks up to Mike, and………..completely blanks. He has no idea what to say. There is literally no connection between his brain and his mouth right now. "I'm sorry I hugged you and dragged you into my life of pop songs and tabloids," is less than helpful. "I didn't know you were in a band! Where's the best venue you've ever played?" is completely inappropriate, given Mike's reluctance to talk about any of his musical past. "You look really good in a swimsuit and sometimes I want to lick you even though you'd probably taste like chlorine," is….well, it's true, but probably won't actually make things any better between them. 

"Hi, Mike," is what Kevin actually says. He is an inspired conversationalist. 

"Hey." 

Okayyyyyyy, this is like pulling teeth. Mike looks like he'd rather be anywhere but standing in front of Kevin. Kevin's honestly worried that Mike might try to choke himself on his paper napkin to get away. Kevin doesn't know what to say to make things right, but Frankie is looming in his peripheral vision, and Kevin's more afraid of the consequences of crossing Frankie than he is of any awkwardness facing Mike. To keep Frankie away, Kevin babbles. 

"Look, I'm really sorry about all of this. All of everything. I mean, I really didn't mean it. I'm kind of famous, which I guess you've noticed, but not the kind of famous that usually makes people really weird around me. I'm not a interesting as Nick or Joe, y'know? People don't usually crouch in bushes to take my picture. I'm really sorry that you got dragged into all this craziness. I mean, yeah, you're definitely the kind of guy that I could see myself hugging in a more grope-ish capacity, but that's not what was happening there, obviously. I didn't mean to bring up any awkwardness for you. Did I mention I was sorry? Because I really am. I miss hanging out with you, too. My Thursdays are much emptier nowadays. Again, sorry. Sorry." 

Mike's just staring at him now, styrofoam plate full of someone's homemade lasagna in hand, inscrutable look on his face. It doesn't LOOK like he's going to stab Kevin with his plastic fork, but then again, Mike's not really a guy with a whole lot of facial expressions. Well, unless you can get him to smile - Mike's got a dozen different smiles, and they all light up his face in the way that makes Kevin want to keep him. (In his pocket, preferably, but keep him smiling, keep him happy, keep him around as much as possibly are acceptable substitutes.) 

"Um, yeah. Did I mention I was sorry for inconveniencing you? Right. okay. Um. I'm going to go sit down now. Bye." 

Kevin stands in front of Mike for another moment, waiting for a response. Mike keeps looking at him though, and Kevin's babbled out the last of his courage, so he just reaches around Mike for a couple slices of pizza. He's in such a hurry to get back to the table and his family and away from the weirdness that now permeates his friendship with Mike, Kevin completely forgets to get a drink from the other end of the buffet table.  

Back at the Jonas Family Table, it's clear that everyone's aware of the elephant in the room, and just as clear that no-one's going to mention it. It's a night of celebration, after all, and Kevin's pretty sure he's at least going to get a participation award if nothing else. And yet, despite the fact that he's been looking forward to this evening's festivities for quite a while, Kevin gets so wrapped up in his own head (thinking about all the things he could've said to Mike, worrying about all the things Mike probably wants to say to him) that he's unaware of most of the ceremony passing until his own name gets called.  

Joe actually has to half-shove him out of his chair to accept his award. It's not his most shining moment as a human being. 

Kevin sort of stumbles up to the podium where Coach is standing, and apparently talking about what an asset Kevin is to the team? Really? Well, that's nice of him. And then Kevin's being dragged into a hug for a photograph for the Athletic Department's website, and when he looks up again, Mike is handing him an envelope with his certificate inside.  

"I should talk to you," Mike says, sotto voce, as he shakes Kevin's hand, "When they open the buffet for dessert, can you wait for me? Please."  

And Kevin's so stunned that Mike's even talking to him right now, let alone that he wants to have an actual conversation, that he just nods dumbly in reply.  

*** 

Later on, Kevin wouldn't be able to tell you exactly what was said during that dessert-side conversation. He'd be able to recall Mike's face, however, and how his expression had changed from tense to open to smiling a quiet, private grin, just for Kevin. He'd remember how Mike hadn't seemed to know what to say at first, and that he certainly hadn't been expecting things to go the direction they had. Kevin would remember flapping his hands around, because he didn't have a plate to hold or any pockets to put them in. He'd remember standing stock-still as Mike leaned in, and being shockingly excited when Mike kissed him. He'd remember that Mike's mouth tasted like cannoli filling when they kissed, because Mike had snuck something from the dessert buffet before Kevin found him.  

He'd definitely remember their first real date, though, because Mike had nodded to Kevin's parents across the room, handed off Kevin's award to Nick, grabbed Kevin by the hand and pulled him out of the conference room where the ceremony was being held, all the way across campus to their table at Starbucks. 

So, yes. If you took the long view, if you followed the chain of events all the way back to the very beginning, if you started at kissing and went back through dating and coffee and swimming and college to singing and touring and summer vacations, everything that happened was really the fault of Kevin's Mom. After all, if she hadn't made him join the swim team that summer, he never would have been in a position to meet Mike in the first place. But if you took a more immediate view, if you felt that short-term was the way to go, and focussed on only the events following the Santa Monica College Swim Team Dinner, everything that happened was entirely Mike and Kevin's fault.  

And really, they were perfectly alright with the blame.

 

[the end]

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, sullen_hearts! You requested, _"Issues ironing themselves out into happy fluffy domesticness. I love fics where people don't expect to kiss or fuck or fall in love but they do anyway… and something about Kevin coming to terms with himself would be great - especially in a religious context - I love religion and also Mike's unhealthy distrust of it."_ I think I got at least a little bit of most of what you wanted. Enjoy! Many thanks to quintenttsy, for letting my not!fic the first 1.7k at her over Twitter - without her willing ear and helpful inbox, this story wouldn't exist. (Literally - I didn't save what I was typing, but she had a copy in her inbox that saved my life.) Title comes from the fact that originally, the entire contents of this document was the phrase "probably not mermaids"...and it kind of stuck with me.


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